Captive
by ChimericalParoxysm
Summary: A series of drabbles depicting the romance that grew between Draco and Luna during her captivity at the Manor.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: In response to ix3youlots' Colorful Phrases Competition. Prompt: A Black Tie Affair. Pairing: Draco/Luna.

* * *

"There, there, Mister Ollivander, it'll be alright."

The old man smiled weakly at her through the darkness, squeezing her comforting hand in thanks. "You're a dear girl," his voice rasped.

She simply smiled in response, squeezing his hand back, and then turned expectantly to the door of the dungeon. Ollivander didn't know how Luna always knew when the boy would arrive—perhaps her Nargles (or some such nonsense) told her—but she always did.

Sure enough, a moment later the door was creaking open, and the young Malfoy heir slipped through, shutting it firmly behind him.

"'Lo Luna, Mr. Ollivander," he whispered, lighting the tip of his wand. The light cast an eerie glow on his pale and tired face.

"You don't look well, Draco," Luna said lightly.

A shadow passed over his eyes, a shadow which had nothing to do with the weak shaking of his wand arm that was causing the light to quiver. He shrugged and said nothing.

"And your clothing, Draco, it's awfully rumpled. Are you quite alright?" Her tone was still conversational.

"I didn't realise I was attending a fancy event. Do excuse me while I find my dress robes," he sneered.

Her smile was sad. "It's all the darkness isn't it? I'm sorry it's not what you thought it would be."

He said nothing. He never said much. And Ollivander found himself wondering frequently why the boy ventured so often to their cell.

"I expect Harry, Ron, and Hermione'll end it all soon—"

"Shh!" he hissed, but was unable to dim the hopeful gleam that lit in his eyes. He carefully surveyed Luna's appearance.

He didn't quite manage to keep the concern from his voice as he said, a little hoarsely, "You know you don't look so hot yourself, Lovegood."

"Oh, I'm alright. A bit dirty, though." She laughed softly.

"I'm sorry I can't let you out." A whisper, barely audible.

Luna reached through the bars and slipped her hand into his. "We understand, Draco."

He stared at her hand a long while before bringing it to his lips and softly kissing her fingers. "You're something else, Lovegood. Definitely something else."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So pepper-vamp97 asked for a sequel, and something little popped into my head and I thought I'd stick it here. There'll probably be at least one more, 'cause there's now another something in my head xD. Enjoy!

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I hadn't seen her in years. Not since the night—. I cut off that train of thought. I'd been so relieved when Granger and so on showed up. She'd figure out a way, I knew, to get them all out. One of them would. One of them had to. And so Luna was safe. But watching Bella—. I stopped myself again. It wasn't really healthy to be dwelling on those moments.

I watched her walk past my seat at The Three Broomsticks and then through the entrance. She smiled and waved to Susan Bones at the bar, then let her eyes scan the room. I wondered who she was looking for and found myself wishing it could've been me. It was her brightness, I knew, that drew me to her. And then, those same bright eyes had lit upon me, and she was moving easily towards my table.

"Hi, Draco."

I swallowed hard. "Luna, how are you?"

"Oh, I'm quite well!" she exclaimed, looking pleased. "I see you're doing much better."

I blinked at her light-hearted return to our last conversation together, and nodded silently.

"Do you mind if I sit?"

"No! No, not at all." I pulled the chair out for her hastily. "Are you meeting someone?"

"Yes. Hermione and Ginny should be here shortly, I just had a good feeling about getting here early."

"I—" I tried so hard to get out the words, 'I'm glad that you did,' but I just _couldn't_.

But she was Luna, of course, and so it really didn't matter. "Yes," she responded, "me, too. We haven't spoken in ages, and I've missed you rather a lot." She reached out and squeezed my hand just as she had so many years before, and just as _I_ had then, I drew her hand to my lips and kissed it softly.

Luna smiled and laced her fingers through mine. "I'd quite like a butterbeer."

I raised my eyebrows at her nonchalance and laughed. "_Definitely_ something else, Lovegood."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I am... not at all happy with this, but here it is anyway! Hopefully someone else likes it better ;)

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It was their one year anniversary. Luna had refused to let him plan anything, assuring him that she'd taken care of everything. He couldn't pretend he wasn't a little nervous about it. Her schemes tended to be a little off-the-wall. Like their "romantic" trek through some eerie forest, or that time he was dragged off to the barest edge of society on an expedition to find—well, he couldn't remember what creature, but surely nothing that existed. The bloody woman was lucky that he… Er… Cared for her.

She was already at the Muggle park when he arrived at the designated bench, and she greeted him with a soft kiss. He noticed the blanket laid out on the grass.

"A picnic?" he asked warily, but surprised.

"Mhm. It was sweet of you to pretend to enjoy our nature hike and so on, so I thought maybe we'd do something you like this time."

"I _did_ like—"

Her laugh cut across his protest. "Of course you did," she rolled her eyes and dropped onto the blanket laden with food.

"Well, I enjoyed spending the time with you," he managed to force out.

"I like spending time with you, too!" She smiled brilliantly, and he couldn't help but chuckle.

"Alright, so what's on the menu?"

She gestured to the blanket. "Well, we have turnip bread sandwiches with peanut butter and marmalade, and dirigible plum juice. I made some cookies, too—chocolate chip!"

Draco swallowed in trepidation. "Sounds great, Luna…"

"I'm joking! Honestly, peanut butter and marmalade?" She laughed, crinkling her nose. She leaned forward and kissed him again. "You're adorable sometimes, you know."

A smile spread across his face. "Oh, I know."

"Also, I thought you should know that I'm in love with you." He accepted the sandwich she handed him, blinking dazedly, and opened his mouth, unsure of what he was going to say. He loved her, he knew, but he couldn't just... _say_ it.

"Oh, it's alright. I know." Her smile was soft, and he couldn't help but smile back.

"Know what?"

"That you love me back." He leaned forward and kissed her, unsure of what to say. Because, really, the woman never ceased to amaze him.


	4. Chapter 4

"You know, Draco," Luna mused as they strolled through Diagon Alley, hand-in-hand, "I think we should look in at that jewellery place after lunch."

He shot her a look. "You hate jewellery shops."

"I know," she replied lightly.

"You think they're filled with tacky, expensive, and useless pieces of junk."

"You know me so well."

He couldn't quite tell whether she was mocking him, or was genuinely pleased, and decided to fall silent.

Lunch passed by in a blur of laughter that left Draco wondering once more at how perfect she was. He loved her—everything about her. He loved her smile and her eccentricities and her intuition and her kindness. He loved that she didn't care what others thought about her, that she was willing to stand up for what she believed in. He thought, often, that maybe, just _maybe_ he'd like to propose. When he imagined it—what life would be like married to Luna—his heart would beat strangely in his chest, not faster or slower, just different. When he thought about it he pictured perpetual happiness; a beautiful house, travelling occasionally, settling down, children. He'd never wanted any of these things before, but with her, everything was different. And he loved it.

Luna led him into the jewellery shop, past several shelves and cases, to a small display at the very back. Here she stopped, looking at it contemplatively, her eyes scanning the selection of rings. Draco wasn't paying much attention, to be honest, and so when she happily pronounced, "I'd like that one," he was rather taken aback.

His eyes flitted to the display, and the protest of, "But you hate store-bought jewellery," died on his lips. Rings. _Rings?_ His eyes darted back and forth between the ring she'd chosen, which was somehow so _her_, and her expectant eyes. "You mean..." he trailed off, unsure of what he was even trying to say.

She nodded nonetheless. "I think we should get married," she paused. Then, with feigned uncertainty, "You _do_ want to marry me, don't you, Draco?"

He laughed softly. "Are you proposing to me, Miss Lovegood?"

"I am," she said certainly, a pleased smile on her face. "So good of you to catch on. You'll accept, of course?"

He met her lips in a passionate kiss. "I most _definitely_ do."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: This is the last chapter! However, if there's something someone would _really_ like to see, I might consider writing it. Hope you enjoy!

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"What do you think of the name Anaximander?" Luna asked one night at dinner.

Draco swallowed his mouthful of perfectly ordinary food—in the first year of their marriage, he had quickly recognized the benefit of having house elves to cook their meals, which was a general relief to his taste buds. "For what?"

She blinked at him. "Our baby. I think it's going to be a boy."

Draco laughed softly. "Why don't we wait until you're pregnant to discuss names, love? A healer would be able to tell us the gender."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Have you forgotten already?"

"Forgotten what?"

"Well I only told you just yesterday," she replied a little impatiently, in a tone unusual for her.

"Luna, I have _no_ idea what you're talking about."

Her gaze pierced his very soul for a moment before turning pensive. "Perhaps I forgot then," she mused. "I _was_ reading this fascinating article written by Rolf Scamander. He—"

A ripple of exasperation. "Forgot _what_, Luna?"

"We're pregnant!" she explained, her expression turning to a serene smile.

"We're—You're—?"

Luna nodded enthusiastically.

A series of emotions flooded through Draco's heart. Disbelief. Wonder. Panic. A flicker of self-doubt. Then, a glowing happiness. A family. He was going to have a _family_. The smile that began to slip onto his face froze, mid-formation, as a thought occurred to him.

"We are _not_ naming him Anaximander!"


End file.
